The day the continents arrived
by Oliver Kirkland
Summary: Listen to Australia's story (as told from many different point of views) that tells why the Earth had to restart, and why most of the countries are now dead. Listen to his story, and carry on the legend of the countries that once were. Six OCs. Rated T for main character death, no gore. France x Jeanne D' Arc/OC, HRE x Chibitalia, and little bits of GerIta later on in the story.
1. Where it all began

Australia's POV

Dear reader,

I honestly did not want this to happen, I tried to help them and warn them, but they refused to listen. If you'll listen then you will know why this had to happen. Please listen, and don't make the mistakes they made.

For this to make sense listen to the story from the start. Where it all started; the continent of Pangaea.

April 22th, 2100. The day the Earth reset.

~Setting change~

The super continent of Pangaea.

Before recorded time and history.

Europa's POV

"Mummy, Maman! Asia stole my music pipe, she did she really did!" I scream at really no one in particular, while chasing my 'older' sister down the long corridors of our beautifully, and magically crafted home. Occasionally taking sharp turns left and right, not really paying attention to where we were heading, just making sure that her head of long hair that was so black that it almost looked purple stayed in my field of sight.

"No I didn't, Europa's lying!" Asia screeched at the top of her lungs, her voice slightly coated with fear, and dread. She was running out of breath, I could tell her loud her intakes of air were getting deeper and deeper by the minute. She'll be mine soon, after all no one can out run me, I am Italicus, the fastest runner ever. "STOP CHASING ME! Someone please save me! She is going to _kill_ me!"

Inside I roll my eyes; I'm not going to _kill _her, why do they all say that when I'm chasing them, or am angry at them? Sure I may be one of only one who has the guts to hunt, and cook the wildlife around here, but that's only because I get tired of the vegan meals Mother prepares us. Besides North and South do it as well, but they like to use every part of the animal when they really shouldn't, and sure their hunting ways are a little more 'peaceful' and 'kind', but we do the exact same thing. Right?

"Europa!" a hard and sharp voice behind me exclaims, making me stop in my tracks, and turn around to face our pretty Mother. Her caramel eyes are filled with disappointment, and anger and are glaring down into my dull green eyes, it's something that I've grown used to over the years. "Why are you tormenting your poor sister?"

"Mom, she took my pipe!" I tell her, in a lame attempt to get her on my side, but I've obviously already lost this battle. "No, Mommy, I didn't, and this time I'm not lying." she's clearly lying, I mean she's trying to hold her giggles in, that means she's G.U.I.L.T.Y.

Mother stops glaring at me for a split second to stare at Asia, and for that split second I see an emotion pass over her eyes, possibly humor, or even amusement. Then just as quickly as that emotion arrived it left, and she was back to glaring knives at me, "Europa, did you see her take your pipe from you?"

I glance at the ground and start to shuffle my feet, "No, b-but I have proof this time! Just come to my room, and I'll show you!"

Mother nods her head, making her slightly wavy light brown hair bounce a little bit. "Alright then, let's see this evidence." Again she looks behind me to where I assume Asia is standing "Come on, Asia; if you have nothing to hide then you'll come."

I hear her gulp; yep she's most certainly guilty, "A-alright."

During the entire 5 minutes it took to get to my room, (Yes before you ask it really took this long to get to my room. What can I say, we have a huge home!) I couldn't help but examine the faces of my Mother, and Asia. Once or twice they exchanged a smirk, and a look of humor, there's something else that's going on that I don't know about… what am I missing?

"Brother, where is my arrow?" Our sister South America, or as she prefers to be called South, asks her twin brother, North America, who prefers to be called North. Her eyes big, bright, green eyes have a slight hint of fear, and anxiety to them as she runs down the hallway as fast as her legs could carry her. The long curl on top of her head is slightly wrinkled, which indicates that she is either worried, stressed, or frightened out of her mind. She's probably just lost her 'lucky' arrow that Mother gave her when we were younger, I can't comprehend why both North and South bother using those things, and they aren't efficient things to hunt with. I keep trying to help them by getting them to start hunting with steel daggers, I even made a few for them, but they _refuse_ to use the things I make for them.

"South, maybe you left it in the kitchen." North yells after her while turning the corner into the hallway, presumably chasing after his twin to assist her in her search. His curl that's identical to South's is shriveled as well; the shriveled curl means only one thing in this family, stress, anxiety, and fear. What does he have to be stressed about? He didn't lose anything, South did.

_Bang_, "Whoops, sorry Asia." I turn around just in time to see South 'accidently' crash into Asia. They're both extremely nimble you can't just crash into them without it happening on purpose. Something _is_going on. Right as they are getting up off the floor I notice Asia passing something shiny with numerous holes on it to South. Right as Asia passed the mysterious object to her, South cast a quick glance my way, and while she did that her curl seemed to shrivel up even more.

"THEVIES!" I shriek at the top of my lungs, and launch myself in South's direction.

South shrieks even louder than I did, scrambles of the floor, and to makes a brake for it. She starts running down the hallway in the direction we –Asia, Mother, and I- came from. She's not getting away with my pipe.

"Be back in time for dinner, kids!" Mother calls after us while South is screaming her head off, I'm yelling profanities at her, North, and Asia are trying to help South, and our other three siblings -Oceania, Africana, and Antarctica- are trying to calm me down, but ultimately failing.

Almost every day is like this, it's just our way of telling each other we love each other. Nothing more nothing less, and of course at the end of the day we forgive, and apologize to each other, anything taken is given back, we never intentionally wound each other, –although it has accidently happened on more than one occasion-, and everything is resolved by dinner. If not then Mother would have our heads on her wall.

* * *

**A/N**

Hello, thank you for reading my story! Please review!

OC Europa/Europe, Africana/Africa, Antarctica, South America, North America, and Asia all belong to me. Any resemblance to other stories are unintentional, and were not stolen. Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya. Again, thank you!

**End of A/N**


	2. What's going to happen?

Asia's POV

"Children," our Mother calls to us from her room. I put down the scroll that I was painting on for a while now. For some reason I had the sudden urge to draw two brothers sitting on the steps of the elder's home, looking at the moon. Now that I'm half way through, I realize that I am not that good at painting men. They both have very… feminine bodies. "come here please!"

A chorus of 7 unanimous "Coming" instantly answers her. As I exit my reasonably large room, I bump into Africana, who happens to have a room directly across from mine. I smile at her, "Hello, Africana!" She simply nods her head in my direction for a reply. We start heading to Mother's room, "Do you know why Mother wants to see us?" She shakes her head in response, without looking at me. She never says much, and really isn't open, I wish she was though.

After what feels like an eternity, and a long and awkward silence, we finally reach Mother's room. Every time I walk into the room, it never ceases to amaze me. It's by far my favorite room in the entire house: Green, healthy vines that cover inch of the walls each blooming flowers of every shape, color, and size; the floor looks the ocean, it even moves, and looks like it has humongous sea beasts living in it; the ceiling looks like the sky, complete with the giant sky creatures who call the sky their home, the sun that gives us light in the day, the moon that gives us light in the night, and the clouds that always move from one place to the next; her desk, bed, and a large chest are the only pieces of furniture in the room. Each little detail plays with each other in harmony, and none look out of place. I wish you could see it; it would take your breath away. It sure does take away mine. Everyone else is already here –North, South, and Europe are sitting on the bed more than likely talking about something irrelevant. Oceania and Antarctica are running around Mother, yelling at each other while running. - "Alright" Mother announces after noticing both of us walk in. "quiet down. I have gifts for you." Everyone stops moving and talking. She walks over to the big chest decorated in various paintings of forests, ice caps, mountains, deserts, lakes, rivers, oceans, and other things I can't even begin to describe. She opens the chest, reaches inside, and pulls out a small box painted in icy blue, and navy. "First we begin with the youngest, Antarctica, this is for you."

"Yay!", Antarctica jumps into the air, and runs to Mother to receive the small box, before she pounces on Mother for the box, she puts her hands behind her back, and eagerly looks up at the elder with a huge smile on her 5-year-old face.

"Now, Antarctica," Mother is suddenly very serious and kneels down to Antarctica's height, "I fear that there are going to be dark, lonely, cold days ahead of you, and as your Mother, I only want what's best for you. So I'm giving you this!" She quickly opens the box's lid to reveal a medium-sized, leather-bound... What does Europa call those? ...Notebooks? Yeah, a notebook! A medium, leather-bound notebook! Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Europa, and Africana exchange worried glances. They must be thinking about what Mother said, but they shouldn't worry about it.

"Cooollll!" Antarctica exclaims, taking the notebook in her small, cold hands. She then looks up at Mother, and cocks her head to the right. "What is it?"

Mother chuckles, "This, my dear," she taps the cover of the notebook, "is an enchanted notebook. If you are ever in danger or are in need of guidance, write in this notebook what you require, and it will do it's best to help you. But be warned, the notebook will only help if intentions are pure."

Antarctica stares at the notebook in her hands with a new-found curiosity.

Mother loudly claps her hands together, startling Antarctica. Alright than, Oceania, you're next!" Antarctica goes to the bed, and sits next to Europa, still staring blankly at the notebook.

Oceania blinks, "Mother, what do you mean when you said that Antarctica has a dark-"

"Come on, Oceania,", she interrupts him in the middle of his sentence. "don't you want to see your gift?"

Europa speaks up, "What did you mean by that?"

"Europa, come on the sooner we get through this, the sooner you can get your gift. There is no time for silly questions like that!"

Is she avoiding the question? What _did _she mean by that?

Mother reaches inside the chest again, and pulls out another box. This box is red and sea blue, and is a great deal longer and thinner than Antarctica's box.

Oceania walks over to Mother, grabs the box, and cautiously opens it. He stares at whatever's inside the box for a second with surprised eyes, before taking it out. In his hand is a wooden staff that is much taller than her is. On top of the staff are 3 beautiful charms attached to the staff by 3 separate thin strings: The largest charm is a gorgeous rainbow-colored feather. The 2nd largest charm is a small white jewel that sparkles in the sunlight. The smallest charm is a face of an animal with gray fur, evil-looking, red eyes, and _really_ big ears.

This continued for a while longer: South was next and got a magical arrow that could set things on fire at her command. North was after her, he got a knife made from stone, and wood, that would always some how make its way to his pocket no matter where he is. I got my gift next, a sickle with a bronze blade, and black hilt, if I hit the ground with it, than the Earth would crack as much as I wanted it to. Europa is a little older than me, so she was next, she got an enchanted paintbrush which would make anything that she paints with it come to life. Africana -being the oldest- was last, she got a spear that could call upon lighting to strike anything that the stone tip pierced.

_Crash! _Something outside the room fell, and the Earth started to rumble. We all looked at Mother. Her face visibly paled, and she audibly gulped, her caramel eyes wide with fear, "S-stay here." She began towards the door, when Europa got in her way.

"I'm coming with you." she states stubbornly, her dull green eyes alive with bravery and fear.

Mother shook her head sadly, "No, Europa, you need to stay here, and protect your brothers and sisters."

"Mother," I asked, "do you know what's going on?"

She looks behind her shoulder at me, her eyes are watery, "Yes, my children, I do." she looks back at Europa. "Please move." Europa stays stubbornly for a second, before recognizing that something is wrong and moving out of the way. Before Mother leaves, she turns to face all of us, "I love all of you so much, do not forget me. And **do not leave this room**, no matter what you hear." A salty tear runs down her mocha skin.

"Wait," Oceania calls to her "what did you mean when you said that my twin has dark days ahead of her?"

Mother simply sadly smiles. She exits the room.

* * *

~Veeee~ Thank you, so much for reading my story! It means so much to me! Please review, constructive criticism, and feedback are very much appreciated! OC Europa, Africana/Africa, Antarctica, South America, North America, and Asia all belong to me. Any resemblance to any other stories are unintentional, and were simple mistakes. Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya. Again, thank you!.


	3. Hello again, it's been a while

Europe's POV

London, England. December 23, 1840.

_'I love my home_

_but it's been destroyed by war._

_It tries to heal itself,_

_but too much pride is a common plague here._

_As my children's children destroy themselves_

_and sentence themselves to hell._

_I will sit to the side_

_disabled, and only able to cry._

_I will cry because they are commending themselves to the wrong fate._

_I once loved my home.'_

I sit back in my chair, and sip my lukewarm green tea, re-reading my poem. I've always loved writing stories and poems. They have a truth about life that I've never been able to resist. Sighing I try to remember the last positive story I wrote... I can't even remember that is most certainly not good.

I look around the small café I'm in, -emphasis on the small- there are only a total of four other people in here with me. Two are brother and sister, twins to be exact, Alice and Rodger Smith, both were born exactly 5 minutes apart. The other two came alone: the one sitting closest to the door is French, Jacqueline Villemarette the youngest of 3 siblings, born in Cannes, France, June 15th, she's an extremely talented artist. The other was sitting as far away from the door as he could, Zacarías Monterrosa born January 5th in Madrid, he ran away from an abusive family 2 years ago, and has done perfectly on his own ever since then. As I think about the people in the café with me, I begin to feel something inside my being blossom. Something that is warm, and kind, and loving. I frown as I begin to slowly recognize this feeling, and I realize that I haven't felt in a very long time, something that I haven't felt since... before _it_ happened.

The soft chime of the bell above the door alerts me that another one of my European citizens has entered. Still pondering on this odd feeling that I am now acquainted with, I turn to see who it is, and I instantly regret the decision to even consider walking into this café. Standing in the door way, holding the door open for someone who is out of my range of sight -more than likely one on his _'colonies' _that he oppresses, and overworks.- is Arthur Kirkland, A.K.A The British Empire, A.K.A Britain A.K.A England, unknown birth place, born around the fall of Britannica. Just seeing that fiend's abnormally bushy eyebrows makes that nice feeling that I haven't felt in a long while instantly shatter into an infinite amount of pieces. I glare angrily at him from behind my glasses, which happen to represent the British Isles. Which is ironic since I hate him so much, yet I desperately need the glasses.

"E- EUROPA?!" a high-pitched shrill voice yanks me out of my thoughts. The voice is familiar, extremely familiar, and the fact is that I have believed that I would never hear the voice, because I thought that the owner had died a long time ago. I mean I've heard rumors that the humans have recently found it, but I didn't believe the rumors, I didn't dare to.

"Jane Kirkland, how dare you disturb others while their trying to have a relaxing afternoon! You should be ashamed of your self..." the rest if England's angry rant is lost as my blood starts to burn. First, Jane Kirkland is not her name, second how dare that fiend tell my little sister was to do and scold her... only I can do that! Why would Antarctica allow him to boss her around, she's a great deal stronger and stronger than he can ever hope to be -even if her physical appearance is of a child-, so why? I slowly stand up, and snatch Antarctica's hand from England's before the two have a chance to walk away. The island nation looks up at me -after all I am 4 inches taller than him- with an annoyance in his eyes, that turns into a very amusing shock. "Hey, what do you think-?"

"Arthur", I begin in a sickly sweet sing-song voice that has even shaken Africa to the core, "This is my little sister, believe it or not, and I am going to take her home, where she belongs. Okay?", with that I begin leave, Antarctica in tow.

Just as we are going to step out of the café, England gets in our way. "You can't just take her, git!" He grabs Antarctica's other hand and attempts to drag her away, but my little sister just stomped on his left foot. _Hard_. He inhaled deeply from the intense pain, determined _'not to make a fool of himself because he is a gentleman'. _I must be honest with you, reader, my countries make me laugh sometimes. "You're going to be in so much trouble when we get home!" He hisses under his breath at Antarctica, he takes her hand again, and tries to yank her away, but she refuses to budge.

Everybody in the shop is now staring at us, it's time for the final act, and bow.

"Arthur" I say in a sickly sweet sing song voice that has even had Africa shaken to her core "This is my little sister, and I am going to take her home with me whether you like it or not, and you are not to interfere. Okay?" With that we leave Arthur in the small café looking dumbstruck, and his foot slightly throbbing.

Once outside, I hail a cab for the both of us; one immediately stops by the curb. Still holding her hand, I open the door "St. Pancras, an extra guinea is you get us there in a hurry." The cab driver merely nods in response, and mumbles something that sounded like a 'yes ma'am'. Once we are in, and the cab door we entered through shuts closed, our cab takes off at an alarming speed. I twist in my seat, and look out the back window of the cab. England's exited the cafe, and is currently talking to someone on the street -his expression is priceless, the perfect mixture of anger and embarrassment- Before turning back around I notice that he has a notebook in his right hand. He didn't come in with a notebook... I turn back around wondering where the notebook could have possibly came from, then realization dawns upon me. That's my notebook, I left it in the café in my haste to leave with Antarctica. "Oh no" I mutter under my breath. That notebook means everything to me, _literally everything. _That notebook has stories -and other forms of literature- from times of war, peace, famish, and everything else written in it. It is _very_ personal to me, and he has it right in is hands free to read.

"What's wrong, big sister?" Antarctica asks, I had forgotten she was here with me.

Without looking at her I respond through gritted teeth, "England has my notebook."

"Ohh, you still write!" I can _feel_ her smiling at me, and for some reason it's an unnerving feeling. "Do you still draw as well?!" her voice is filled with fascination so genuine, it shouldn't even be considered genuine.

"Yes." I respond, and again through gritted teeth.

"Are you mad at me? I came all this way to see you. I've missed you and our other siblings so much." She's trying to hide a pain that's obviously been bottled up these past billion years, but now it's slipping through cracks in her young voice.

This time I turn to look at her, she's changed so much over the years. Her hair and eye color are the two obvious changes: they've both gotten _much _lighter. Her hair used to be a beautiful blonde like mine, but now it's nearly snow-white, her eyes used to be soft brown, now they have nearly no color and could be called transparent , and her skin- her skin is what changed the most. She used to have a skin color like South America's -a gorgeous tan color, that I've secretly been jealous of-, but now her skin is nearly as pale as her hair, on top of that she also has many scars scattered all over her tiny body. Some are nearly microscopic, but others are four to five inches long and an inch wide. "N-no, I'm not angry at you, I angry at England, that's all. Sorry if..." I trail off as I am still trying to fathom this new plot twist in the insane story that is my life. "What happened to you?"

She noticeably stiffens "Umm, can I tell you when we get to your home?" she looks at me with her 'new' eyes "Please?"

"Hey," I say firmly, "my home is your home now, okay?"

She smiles brightly again -but shows no teeth, and the smile looks forced-, she launches herself forward, and glomps my upper body in what was the first hug I've received in a while. She's extremely cold -that's an understatement-, and it sends a shiver down my body. I wonder why her hands aren't cold, then I realized she's wearing gloves. Why was she wearing gloves? Knowing that I'll get and answer soon, I wrap my arms around her small body to return the loving hug. Despretly trying not to shiver again from how cold she is.

~1~2~3~4~5~6~7~8~9~10~11~~

The cab comes to a sudden stop, causing Antarctica to fly and land on the hard floor of the cab.

"St. Pancras." the cabbie announces

"Yeah, I got that." I pick Antarctica off of the floor, she's a great deal lighter too. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, that was nothing." she's still smiling brightly. If that had happened to her while we -myself, and our siblings- we together she would be crying a waterfall of tears. Then again a lot can change in a couple billion years.

"Why are we here?" she asks, looking around her new surroundings.

I grab her hand, and start walking towards a bored looking ticket lady. The train station was packed with busy people who were going about their lives, with their goals in mind -myself not excluded. I must admit, I am feeling a bit claustrophobic at the moment, but we have to get out of London, and this is the fastest way. "We're here to buy a ticket to go to my house." I tell Antarctica "A ticket for that." I point the the shinning, steel train, her eyes immedetly brighten and begin to sparkle with wonder and curiosity.

I walk up to the ticket lady, Elizebeth Tyler born in Cardrith February 17th, "Good day, ma'am," when the squeal of police sirens go off near by, and the noise just gets louder and louder, and closer. England must have contacted the police, that possessive jerk. Guess it's time to skip the formalities. "The next ticket out of London, I don't care where it goes." I throw 50 shrillings at her. "Keep the change. Give me the ticket."

"Um...here" she hands me the tickets, looking a bit shocked and flustered. "Train number 3" she mumbles, pointing a train on the other side of the train station, "It leaves in 5 minutes."

"Thanks" I tell her with a small smile, and run off to train number 3, while holding my sister's hand.

"Ahh!" Antarctica wails out of shock, she stumbles a bit, but the catches up to my quick, hurried pace. I push through the dense crowd leading my sister to the train, and ignoring the profanities sent our way.

Right as we jump on the train, I look back to see 5 police officers arrive on the scene, England leading them. I smirk a bit at his face -a lame attempt to maintain composure, but a child could see that he was beyond angry-, but then the smirk disappears when I see my notebook he has neatly tucked under his arm.

"Come on, let's take our seat." I tell Antarctica, patting her lightly on the back. She tenses under my hand, but them gradually relaxes. I raise an eyebrow at her, she's avoiding my eyes now. As I guide her to our seats, the tension slowly begin to build.

As we sit down, we both look out the window. England's talking to the still flustered ticket lady, and she points at the train we're in. Well obviously he isn't here to buy a ticket.

The police start running towards the train, England follows, but he's walking at a quick pace since he's a _'gentleman_' –of course.

"All aboard!" The conductor yells, and the train starts to move forward at a slow pace. England stops walking, but the police pick up the pace. Their never going to make it, they have 50 yards to run, and the train is quickly gaining speed. I look back at England, he stares back with a thoughtful look, and I stare back at him –ignoring everything else- until he is an indistinguishable dot among a crowd of other dots. Finally, when I look back at Antarctica, she's asleep; she's cute when she's sleeping. The scars though, the scars were _extremely _distracting. How did she manage to get such huge scars? Why did she get them? Did someone give them to her; did she give them to her self? No, she wouldn't do that to herself, right? I banish those dreaded thoughts from my mind, and close my eyes, drifting off into a deep, nightmare filled sleep.

* * *

**A/N**

Yes, I am aware, this is a GINORMOUS time skip. (And that is an understatement.) But I just couldn't figure out what else to put before this, and I think this chapter came out _sooo _well. So, yeah.

Anyways, thanks to all the people who are following this story, and _please_ fill free to review this story, I love feedback from others. And thankyou for reading my story!

u/917790/Oliver-Kirkland

My fictionpress, I'm new to it, so there is only one story. Add fictionpress. com to the beginning of that, and remove the spaces, and add a slash. Please read. Yes, shameless advertisement.

Cupcake, poppit?


	4. So, what now?

_December 23, 1840. _

_The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland's Home A.K.A England's Home_

~1~2~3~4~5~6~7~8~9~10~11~

England's POV

Still fuming inside, even after 4 hours, I angrily jam the key to the door into its designated keyhole. Click. I yank the door open, and force my coat on the coat rack hanging to the left of the entry hall. I sigh, and start walking to my kitchen when, "Yo, Iggy!" America's loud, annoying, aggravating, and most certainly unwanted voice comes from my living room, making my migraine even worse than it previously was.

I groan, no time to think –even after the stressful day it had been- for the U.K. I was going to talk to him –or preferably any other sensible country- about Antarctica's self proclaimed 'sister'. "America, how did you get into my house? Don't you have things to do in your own country?" I ask the obnoxious American as I while walking into my living room, where he is sprawled across my sofa.

"Yeah, I do, but I have to get away from the prez for a while, I think I'm annoying him." He states simply. His president isn't the only who's being annoyed by him, but I have to feel bad for my former colony; to be rejected by your leader is like to be rejected by a parent. It's just unthinkable and unbearable, but in other cases it's wanted to be ignored; like in the case of a dictator or any insane power hungry leader.

"Alright, so how did you get into my house?" I ask again, placing my hands on my hips, and tapping my left foot impatiently as if scolding a child, which, theoretically speaking, I was.

He shrugs, "I know where you hide the spare key."

I made a mental note to relocate the spare key. "I needed to talk to you anyways." I walk over, and sit down in my favorite green arm chair, making another note on America's uncharacteristic quietness today. "Do you know if Antarctica has any siblings, or has ever mentioned any siblings of hers?"

He furrows his eyebrows in concentration, then shook his head slowly with a slight frown. "No, why?" He turned his head to look at me, his sapphire eyes glistened with worry, "Where's Antarctica, she was with you, wasn't she?

"Yes, yes she was…" I pause and start to inwardly panic, not that I showed it on the inside "she was taken."

"What!" America jumped to his feet, his calm mood suddenly gone, "England, how you lose a little girl! What if she's in danger! We have to find her!"

I jump to my feet as well getting defensive, "I didn't lose her, git, she was taken, but I know where they're going!"

"Well then who took her? Was it another country? I suspect it was Romania*..."

"If you calm down and shut up I'll tell you!" I scream at the suddenly excited American "Yes, I do believe she was taken by another country, but I don't know which one. Antarctica went voluntary with the person, so she must have known her."

"What did the person look like?" He asks me.

"She-" I start.

"AHAHAHA!" America's 'Hero laugh' cuts me off. "A girl stole from you!"

"SHUT UP!" I roar cutting him off mid-laugh, "She had long, blonde hair, but it wasn't a blonde like mine or the frog's. It was more of a dirty blonde." I pause, thinking of the mysterious girl, "She also had eyes that changed color, when I first saw her they were blue, but towards the end they were a bright green… she was wearing a very improper blue dress that didn't reach her ankles, and she had a necklace that looked exactly like Antarctica's."

"Do you know where they're going?"

"Birmingham."

"Well then, let's go!" He yanks my right hand from where it lays across my chest, and runs towards the door I just came through no less than 5 minutes ago.

Of course, I unintentionally start blushing madly -much to my embarrassment- at the sudden contact of skin, and quickly turn my head away from America to prevent him from seeing my tomato color face. But he couldn't see me from where he was looking, but I didn't want to take any chances. "L-let go of me!"

"No! 'cause I'm the HERO!" Was his response, while he yanks open the front door, and runs to the horse and carriage that I arrived in. Wait so how did he get here? Did he walk? He must have, but my house is extremely out of the way, and it would have taken him at least an hour to get here by foot.

We climb into the drivers' seats, and I turn to America, a question burning in my mind. "America, did you walk here?"

He turns to me with wide eyes that remind me from when he was a child. "Um... yeah I did actually." He says like a he was caught stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar. "So, where are we going, again?" He asks, reins in hand

"Birmingham." I remind him slowly.

"Right, and how are we getting there?"

"Well, we can go to the station, and catch a train from there."

"And where's that?"

"Give me the reins." I growl and snatch said item from the younger country.

It's going to be a long, long day.

~1~2~3~4~5~6~7~8~9~10~11~

_A family._

_Fake smiles,_

_false laughs,_

_we don't want your's,  
_

_we have plenty here._

_A family?_

_I think we were one._

_What happened to us?_

_Family._

_Sometimes I ponder the odd word._

_December 23, 1840._

_One of Europe's many vacation homes._

Antarctica's POV

I stare out the train window with wonder plastered onto my face, occasionally asking irrelevant questions and receiving answers I didn't care for. It's just an act, because this is how I acted before I was isolated... right?

I can hardly remember anymore, the memories of a distant childhood are slowly, painfully slipping away. Four sisters, and two brothers are all I can hang onto, but I feel like there is someone else that is missing, someone important. Who?

"So how long have you been here?" Europe asks from behind me.

I cringe inside, I've been dreading this question, because in truth I've been here on this 'new world' -just to clarify, the 'new world', for me, is basically what the world is today. This includes all of the continents- for about a hundred years just wandering and exploring the land that was so new to me. The countries found me thirty years ago, and took me in for some reason, calling me their big brothers and sisters. I thought that was odd, I mean, they just found me wandering the land, and decided to take me in. Who does that? "Umm… I dunno, a while, I suppose." I mumble the last part, and feel my sister's natural curiosity grow.

"Well, if you had to guess how long would you say you've been here?" She asks, only getting more and more curious by the second.

"I told you, I don't know."

She softly growls, obviously not receiving the answer she was looking for, but decides to drop the undesirable topic. For now at least. "So where have you been?"

"Sister, why are you asking so many questions?" I suddenly ask, turning fully around with a serious face.

"What?"

"You heard me. Why are you asking so many questions? Why are you trying to learn all of my secrets? We haven't seen each other for millions years, yet instead of a tearful reunion here we are in your sitting room trying to ignore the looming tension between the two of us. Tell me, sister, are we not a family who still love and hold each other dear no matter what obstacles separate us?"

Due to the shocked and horror stricken look on my elder sister's face, I believe what I have said may just be a bit out of my younger self's character. And a little more crossing the line into the current self that I desperately hoped would stay hidden from my sister's prying eyes.

But when the other woman sitting down began to grin and laugh, it was my turn to look shocked and horror stricken. Had Europe finally snapped? Had my sister finally broken from the weight of near immortality right in front of my eyes? Did I cause it?

"E-Europe?" I ask in a whispery, weak voice that could hardly be heard over my dear sister's hardly contained crazed laughter, while I slowly move forward to the shaking form of the continent of Europe. "E-Europa, y-you're scaring me." My voice sounds so small, so weak, so not like the cynical and cruel one that usually comes out of my mouth; I decide it's not my voice not my voice.

"D-dead- Dear sister, of how much you have grown these p-past -d-die- years!" At this point I'm not sure what scares me more: the wild and crazed looked in her now crimson eyes that are focused on me, the shrillness of her voice that holds absolutely no trace of any kind sanity, or the fact that she is -hopefully-unintentionally destroying the seat with her nails and a demented smile on her face.

"Europa…" I soothingly say, using her name from our childhood. While I'm close enough to touch her I'm still inwardly debating whether or whether not I should. But in the end, against all better judgment of the situation, my gloved hand trembling out of fear reaches out to tentatively grab a hold of one the other's hands.

That was probably the worst -or best, it's your opinion- thing I could have done.

One moment I'm staring into the crimson eyes of my -seemingly insane- sister, the next my world is spinning and I'm somehow sitting on her lap, with her squeezing the all of the air out of my lungs and her giggling words mostly couldn't pick up. But I believe the words went along the lines of: "Die. I love you. Die."

Whether a scream escaped my lips or not I cannot say, because I cannot remember.

What I can remember, and may tell you is this:

A ear splitting crash was heard from the general direction of the main entrance, the crash was followed by a familiar American voice, the American voice was then followed by an English and Scottish one. The words flew by me to quickly to be registered, but they were clearly angry, and did not help my current predicament. The hot arms wrapped around my middle simply tightened, making any leftover air in my body quickly exit through my mouth.

That was when my chest started to burn, my throat started to ache, my head started to feel light, and blots of lights start to dance across my vision. 'She needs to let go of me.' I had thought, and it happened. Not in the way I expected though.

As if I were a rag doll I was harshly thrown to the side, and landed on the wall with a painful thunk. At that moment moist, cool air flooded my lungs, telling me I could breath again.

And that's it. Well, not really, there was a lot more that happened, but I can't tell you that at the moment.

* * *

**A/N Note**

*Sigh* This didn't turn out as well as I wanted it to. Such as life.

Okay, so I have an excuse for this being so late: I have most of this story written out, but this certain section is missing, and life caught up to me... so I couldn't rewrite it till now. Yeah, bye!

**End of A/N**


End file.
